


Absence

by ingthing (orphan_account)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Wedding Planner, Business Trip, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Reconciliation, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 22:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10649766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ingthing
Summary: It's their first weekend apart, and Victor is especially distraught.Please see the new chaptered posting of this AU for updates!





	Absence

**Author's Note:**

> _(...makes the heart grow fonder.)_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> This took a while to get out! I think it was a necessary instalment to have, and I hope you think so too!
> 
> Not beta'd as usual, and enjoy!

It starts with the news that Victor has to travel to a wedding professionals' conference in Washington for a weekend.

Although the conference is over a week away, Victor seems incredibly dismayed. He'd sent Yuuri a flurry of upset messages when Mila reminded him of the trip that morning, and he'd arrived home just as troubled.

"It's only two nights, Victor." Yuuri sighs, standing beside and resting his palms on the arm of his boyfriend's couch. Victor is laid on it front-down, burying his face in a broad-striped pillow and emitting a muffled noise of displeasure with his legs dangling off the other armrest. Makkachin's sniffing around his face, offering licks wherever she can find Victor's cheek behind his bangs. She's probably been dealing with Victor's moods for a long time; Yuuri sighs and wishes he had that experience. "And it's not like you'll be alone," he points out. "Aren't your coworkers coming?" 

"Just Mila and Georgi." Victor mutters, lifting his head to pout. "Yurio told me to go to hell when I asked if he wanted to come."

"I mean, I don't think a _conference_ is any teen's idea of fun." Reaching out to poke the part of Victor's hair in light reprimand, Yuuri replies. Victor grumbles in begrudged agreement, narrowing his eyes as he drops his chin to the pillow. 

"Still. You should be _consoling_ me!" Victor whines, rolling over to face upwards and meet Yuuri's gaze, letting one arm drape off the side of the seat and brush against Makkachin's fur. "I'm in _distress_."

"Why?" 

"Because," Victor murmurs dolefully, "this will be our first real weekend away from each other."

Yuuri hadn't thought of that— he's also pretty sure being apart for a little while isn't as devastating as Victor makes it out to be. After all, it's just a couple of nights. It's not as if they'll be apart for an entire month, and Yuuri doesn't usually stay over on weeknights, anyway. Still, with Victor looking teary-eyed, he guesses there _is_ something he can do for him after all.

"Okay, well…" He stalls, kneeling in front of the sofa and leaning onto its cushions; Makkachin obediently moves out of the way, and Victor's hand comes up to Yuuri's back instead, resting on his shoulder. "If you're really so upset over being away for the weekend, I'll just… I don't know. I could stay over during the week instead of going back to my apartment every night."

"You're sure?" Eyes going wide, Victor seems cheerier at the offer already.

"Um, yeah. It's technically closer to the shop, anyway." 

Victor thrusts his arms out to pull Yuuri into them, squeezing him tight as well as he can from his reclining position, and he laughs and lands a few good kisses wherever he can reach on Yuuri's face. 

Yuuri's just relaxing into it when, abruptly, Victor releases him, holding Yuuri's arms instead and looking surprised, or more likely, alert.

"Then you should go grab your things!" He gasps, looking over at the clock on the TV stand across from them and tugging at Yuuri's t-shirt sleeve. "Come on, let's go!" 

"Now?" Yuuri protests when Victor swings his legs off the sofa and sits up.

"No sense in time wasted!" Victor grins, standing and letting Yuuri hold his hand as he gets up. "We can get dinner on the way back."

Yuuri can barely retort that he's got enough clothing there for at least _two_ days before he's pulled out the door with unlaced sneakers on, which, Victor says, he can just do up in the elevator.

For all of Victor's excitement, he's surprisingly docile when they reach Yuuri and Phichit's apartment. It's his first time over, even if just briefly, and Yuuri is a little embarrassed when he comes out of his room hoisting a duffel bag onto his shoulder to find Victor glancing around the room quietly from the sofa. Their apartment definitely pales in comparison to Victor's nicely furnished condo. 

"Phichit isn't here?" Victor asks, noticing that the energetic lifestyle journalist isn't around. 

"I think he's at work— He goes in on Saturdays because he likes it so much."

"You go in on Saturdays too, when it's not the summer." Victor points out. 

"Well, yeah, but that's when Minami isn't there to take over my shift." Yuuri shrugs, slipping his shoes back on and Victor following suit. "Okay, let's go."

Victor sticks to Yuuri like they're glued through the subway, through their pit stop for sushi, and all the way up to Victor's apartment and through the door, but Yuuri can't find it in himself to request a little space when Victor looks so simply happy just clinging to him as he sets their food on the kitchen counter. 

An entire week spent here instead of going home for the night is a little daunting, if Yuuri's honest. That's a lot of time to be spending together— but if nothing else, he wants to see to Victor's needs, and if staying over the week before his short business trip helps, then at the very least, Yuuri can do that. 

 

* * *

 

The rest of the weekend passes as it usually would, with sleeping in and walking Makkachin and lounging around the house. 

By Wednesday, Yuuri's actually _excited_ to be going to work in the morning. 

Phichit had taken the news that Yuuri wouldn't be coming back for a week with much enthusiasm, sending about a hundred texts filled with "OMG!!!"s and various supportive emojis and calling Yuuri to make sure he isn't just stalling on telling him he wants to move in with Victor. Yuuri wants that, at some point, but this week is a test drive and _definitely_ not a final decision. 

Especially not after spending four nights with Victor and feeling restless and tired after them. 

"I know I promised," Yuuri mutters into his apple, crunching into it and chewing before swallowing and continuing his thought, "but it's a lot to suddenly be with him 24/7. And when he's upset about the trip _and_ superclingy..."

"Super clingy? Who, _Victor_? I couldn't tell." Mari quips sarcastically, entering the room and giving Yuuri a teasing grin when he glowers at her for eavesdropping. 

"Aren't you supposed to be downstairs doing stuff?" Yuuri grumbles, resting one elbow on the counter and putting the apple down.

"Well, yeah, but why are you talking to yourself?" 

"It's not a crime," Yuuri replies, turning away. "It's nothing." 

"It doesn't seem like nothing. What happened with Victor?" Mari presses. "If you really don't want to tell me, then okay, but if you're frustrated enough to mope about it…"

"It's really nothing— I'm staying with him this week, and it's just different."

Giving a low whistle and walking over to lean on the counter, Mari raises her eyebrows. "Oh, congrats. I guess you guys _have_ been dating for a couple of months now. How long has it been, half a year?"

"Just over four months," Yuuri mutters back. "And it's not like I've moved in or anything."

"Why not? Isn't his place a lot closer to the shop? You stay there every weekend; you're _practically_ living together already."

"Ugh, not you too." Yuuri sighs. "That's what Phichit said."

"Do you not, like, _like_ Victor anymore?" 

"That's not it at all." Yuuri sits up, frowning at Mari. "It's just… He has a business trip soon so he's really- and I mean _really_ \- clingy." 

"You always did love your personal space," Mari murmurs. "But if you need space, why not just say so?"

"He looked like he was going to cry just thinking about being apart during _work_ this week. I can't do that." 

"Yes you can. And haven't you been at his apartment all weekend anyway? He'll understand."

"Mari, he would literally cry if I suggested going back to my own place for tonight."

"It's your decision," Mari states, leaning off the counter and turning to go downstairs, "but I think he would appreciate it if you told him." 

Just like that, she's gone again, footsteps heading away the only buffer for Yuuri's frustration. Maybe Mari is right, but all Yuuri needs to do is hold on for two more days, and then he'll have all the quiet time he wants. He can do this.

 

* * *

 

By Thursday, Yuuri, in fact, cannot do "this." 

"This" is letting Victor drape himself over Yuuri when he's in Victor's only armchair or in other seats clearly made for one, and chattering idly about nothing with his arms wrapped tight around Yuuri's waist or shoulders. "This" is trying not to squirm and hiding his discomfort when Victor's too close too often, and being sandwiched between Makkachin and Victor every night is stifling in the August heat. Sure, they keep the air conditioner on, but it doesn't help when he's between two deadweights.

Yuuri rubs his face as he sits on the toilet, elbows on his knees. The toilet cover's not up; he's not even there to _pee_. It just feels like the bathroom is the only place he can escape to.

A soft knock comes from the door, and Yuuri doesn't even look up.

"Yuuri, are you feeling alright? I can get you some antacid." Victor asks in a concerned tone.

"Y-yeah, I'm okay." Yuuri calls back, feeling more terrible than ever. "Sorry, did you need the toilet?"

"No, take your time." Victor replies. "Tell me if you need anything, okay?"

 _Space. I need space._ Yuuri thinks to himself, not really noticing when the waiting silence from outside the door changes into footsteps headed away from the bathroom. Victor isn't at the door. He can take a deep breath and process things now.

There's definitely not even a question of if he loves Victor or not. He does, he really does. So why is he so bothered by spending a few extra nights over or being literally shoulder to shoulder with Victor all the time? That's the kind of stuff you do when you're in love, isn't it? And especially now, with Victor so upset about staying away for all of two nights— Yuuri should be more receptive to that closeness than ever. But if Victor is really asking if he needs _anything_ , then...

He flushes the toilet for show and washes his hands (even if he hasn't had to wipe anything) before unlocking the door and emerging into the living area. 

Victor turns his attention from his phone to watch Yuuri come out of the bathroom and he offers a worried smile. "Are you feeling better?" 

"I guess so." Yuuri lies, settling on the sofa next to Victor. "It was just my stomach." 

Victor nods in understanding, reminded, with fondness, of memories of his experiences with Chinese takeout. Undeterred by thoughts of bowel movements, he stretches his arms out to Yuuri requesting a hug, but Yuuri doesn't move into his embrace, instead patting his knee and looking nervously away.

"Um, well, can I talk to you about something later?" Yuuri mentions, blinking up at Victor through his glasses, and Victor lowers his hands curiously.

"I was just going to go take a shower," Victor says. "Are you sure you don't want to talk now?" 

Victor takes a long time in the shower, Yuuri knows— and he desperately needs that time to think about how he should phrase this. He shakes his head, urging Victor to go to the bathroom, and stares holes into the floorboards underneath his feet once Victor is gone.

There really would be no easy way to put this. How, exactly, is Yuuri supposed to tell his boyfriend that he wants space when that amounts to not wanting to spend time with him? It's not that, it's really not— Yuuri loves Victor and likes being around him— but that's exactly what it sounds like. 

His mind is still spinning with no clear answer in sight when the sound of flowing water comes to a stop and Yuuri knows he's out of time.

Minutes later, Victor comes out from the bathroom in his bathrobe with a towel in one hand, and he musses his hair with it as he walks back to Yuuri.

"So? What did you want to talk about?" He asks lightheartedly, blinking curiously at Yuuri and sitting across from him.

Yuuri's completely frozen to the spot, his gaze darting down from Victor's face to his knees. What if he wrecks their relationship over such an insignificant thing? Victor looks like he has no idea what Yuuri might have in store, and that just makes his pulse race faster. It's getting hard to breathe.

"I don't know if I should." He admits, wringing his hands in his lap. 

"How can I help if you don't tell me?" Shuffling forward to sit at the very edge of the armchair, Victor reaches out to place a gentle hand on Yuuri's knee. The gesture would comfort him at other times, but Yuuri just stiffens, pursing his lips together before deciding, against the nagging insecurity in the back of his mind, to speak freely.

"I… I think I need space."

If he had looked up then, he would have watched Victor's heart drop to the bottom of his stomach. 

 

* * *

 

Yuuri steps into the stream of the hot shower with a wince. He doesn't change the temperature setting— his skin will get accustomed to the temperature after a few seconds under the stream, and it's a welcome (albeit uncomfortable) distraction from the conversation he just had.

He'd explained it all, of course. How his words came out wrong and how he's not used to being clung to so much and how he's just being stupid and _no, Victor, I didn't mean to make it sound like I'm breaking up with you!_

The edge of Victor's dismay only softened into sadness, the alarm in his eyes turning into anguish. 

Yuuri closes his own eyes in the stream of the water, willing the hot droplets to reach deep inside and wash away the tension. He'd done it; he'd told Victor he needed space. 

But showers don't work like that, and he'd hurt Victor— and now here he is, drowning his sorrows in Victor's shower, in Victor's bathroom, in Victor's apartment. 

It feels selfish, and his fingers are already starting to prune when he realizes he hasn't even touched the soap. A cursory lathering is all he can really muster before rubbing the soap on himself. 

After all his (empty) explanations, Victor had simply nodded once in understanding and cast his eyes down with a brow furrowed so deep it made his forehead look even larger. He'd said something to apologize for making Yuuri feel uncomfortable, and he'd taken Yuuri's hands, letting them go when he'd suggested Yuuri go have a shower with a small smile.

It hadn't come up to his eyes, so Yuuri knows that he's upset Victor deeply.

The soap is washed off quickly under the unrelenting waterflow, and Yuuri rubs his face with a cleanser and a washcloth and rinses it before supposing he should really leave the shower.

It takes another two minutes for Yuuri to conjure up the will to switch the shower off and dry himself with a towel— his towel, next to Victor's larger towel on the rack— he ruffles his hair semi-dry and pulls on underwear, a shirt, and some shorts before brushing his teeth and staring wearily at himself in the vanity mirror. 

With a deep sigh, he hangs the towel back up and opens the door into the bedroom.

The light is already dimmed when he steps out, the only light remaining in the room the table lamp next to the empty side of the bed. Victor's back is turned towards him, and Yuuri glances around the room, looking for the dresser to put his clothes on but fixing his gaze on the dark leather duffel bag sitting on the armchair in the corner of the room. 

Of course, Victor had packed for his trip tomorrow while Yuuri was in the shower. 

Yuuri places his folded clothes on the dresser before tiptoeing to the bed and slipping under the covers. Victor's broad back is turned to him, and only when Yuuri hoists himself onto the bed does he notice that Makkachin is in his arms. Victor's chest is already rising and falling with the pacing of sleep, and Yuuri almost misses the wadded up tissues on Victor's nightstand, shadowed by their bodies.

The tissues are arranged in a haphazard clump right at the edge of the nightstand, and a glance over Victor and Makkachin reveals that a few have fallen on the ground. Victor's eyes are reddened from the sliver that isn't buried in the poodle's fur and Yuuri can see. 

So Victor had _cried_.

It's official: Yuuri Katsuki is the absolute worst boyfriend. 

The sheets that were so comfortable on his skin just the night before feel stifling and unfamiliar tonight; but Yuuri pulls them over himself anyway as a micro-punishment, resting his head on the pillow and staring up into the darkness of the ceiling. 

Yuuri had wanted space, and he'd gotten it. But the expanse of mattress between them, even though it must only be a foot or so wide, feels like _too much_ space. 

Frustrated mostly at himself, Yuuri manages to fall asleep from sheer fatigue a few hours later. 

 

* * *

 

He's woken by the sound of something dropping on the floor and Victor's under-the-breath cursing. 

It's startling, so Yuuri sits up blearily, and when Victor gets up from retrieving his watch from the floor, their eyes meet. 

Victor looks soft in the dim morning light that trickles between the curtains (drawn shut still— Victor probably intended to let Yuuri sleep) and he blinks, his surprise ebbing. "Good morning," he greets quietly, slipping his watch on and fastening it.

"Morning," Yuuri replies, lowering his gaze and taking his phone from the nightstand. It's not charged— he'd forgotten to plug it in last night— but its battery is full enough to tell Yuuri that it's just past six in the morning— he remembers that Victor's supposed to be at Penn Station at around eight. He swings his legs out off the bed; the covers are messy and pushed back already, and he sits at the edge of the mattress as he watches Victor adjust his collar in the mirror next to the bedroom door. 

Yuuri gets up and trudges to the kitchen for a cup of water. His mouth feels like it's coated in sawdust after the bad night of sleep, and he sees that Makkachin's already in the living room, lounging in the morning sunlight by the floor to ceiling balcony windows. The poodle doesn't seem to notice Yuuri— or maybe she knows that he upset Victor and doesn't want anything to do with him. 

Guilt gnaws at him when Victor emerges from the bedroom, hauling his duffel bag through the door. 

Yuuri watches quietly as Victor pours a water bottle for himself, stuffs that in the side pocket of his luggage, and pulls on his shoes. He puts his mug down on the kitchen counter and approaches Victor slowly, staring down at the parting of his hair as he ties his shoelaces. 

Victor notices him coming, and he looks at Yuuri as he stands. 

This close up, Victor looks tired. He's as well groomed as ever, smelling like aftershave and cologne, but his eyes show evidence of tears— evidence even the strongest depuffing creams can't get rid of. His smile is tired, too. 

"Well," He breathes, standing by the door expectantly. "I have to go." 

Yuuri nods, taking a deep breath. "Yeah. Wouldn't wanna be late." 

This isn't awkward at all. Victor's not turning to leave, and Yuuri has his hands together at his stomach, unsure of what to do. Not that Yuuri wants him to leave, but the way Victor's looking at him makes him want to do something. At a loss for words, he outstretches his arms, and Victor takes his invitation, setting the duffel on the floor before coming into Yuuri's embrace.

"I'm sorry about last night," Yuuri's voice wavers, clutching at Victor's back. 

"That's okay," Victor murmurs, letting his hands rest on the small of Yuuri's back. "What matters is that you're still here."

The tightness in Victor's back doesn't melt away as it usually does when they hug, but Yuuri has to shut his eyes against the watering after Victor's honesty. God, he doesn't think he deserves this amazing man.

They leave the hug soon after, and Yuuri leans up to give Victor a kiss before coming back down on his heels and straightening Victor's jacket a little. "H-have a good trip," he wishes, offering up a wobbly smile.

With another quick peck and a ruffle of Makkachin's fur, Victor leaves. Yuuri does too, for work, once he's handed Makkachin off to Nikolai, who she's staying with for the weekend. 

That she would be staying with the older man was determined a week before, but it's probably better that Yuuri doesn't take care of her instead— he doesn't deserve the dog's love right now, no matter how insistently she tries to lick his face.

 

* * *

 

Phichit can tell something's up when Yuuri returns to their apartment after work. 

_Of course_ he does, having lived with Yuuri for so many years. Phichit stares intently at him from the couch, giving him a once-over.

"Y'know, for someone who just spent an entire week lovey-dovey with their boyfriend, you don't look very happy." He states, as Yuuri kicks his sneakers off and heads into the apartment. 

Yuuri drops his bag in his room before coming back out to the kitchen for a drink— the beer he put in the fridge is still there, so he takes a can out and downs a first gulp as Phichit watches him, looking very confused.

"Did something happen with Victor?" He asks, rising from his seat to join Yuuri at the refrigerator. 

" _I_ happened." Yuuri laments, taking a seat at their small kitchen table. "I hurt Victor."

Phichit gasps, and takes the seat next to Yuuri. " _How_?"

"I told him I needed space." 

Yuuri rubs his face in his hands as Phichit processes his words, and he clasps his hands around his beer as Phichit seems to come to some kind of realization.

"Wait, you _broke up_?"

"No, of course not!" Yuuri clarifies, before doubling forward to rest his forehead on the table. "Ugh, he thought that's what I meant too. Why am I so bad with words?" 

"I mean… you _are_ a private person. I can see why you might need space, but you couldn't wait until after the trip to ask him about it?"

"He told me to say something if there's anything I need…" Yuuri trails off. "While I was in the bathroom, sure, but I didn't think he'd be so upset over what I said."

Phichit gawks. "Yuuri, isn't clinging to you, like, the number one thing he likes doing? That's why you stayed with him all week, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Of course he'd be upset, he wanted to spend time with you!" 

"Oh."

"Have you at least texted him?" Phichit asks, taking Yuuri's beer and taking a sip before wincing and passing it back. "How you drink beer I'll never understand."

"He's at the conference right now, but we texted while Victor was on the train and a little bit after he arrived."

"Okay, at least you've been doing that." Phichit sighs. "Did you apologize?"

"This morning, before he left." 

Phichit nods to himself, crossing his arms in contemplation. "So… I mean, that's pretty much all you can do right now, right?"

"Yeah," Yuuri says, rising from the table and propping his elbows on the surface. "But I still feel terrible about it."

"Good luck, man." Phichit whistles, getting up to pat Yuuri on the back. "But hey, at least you have some space now, right?"

Yuuri grunts affirmatively as he rises too, bringing his drink with him to his room. He'll admit that it's nice to be on his own for the first night in a while, and he turns his computer on to play some games. Time passes quickly that way, the screen pulling him away from his life momentarily. But once he's rubbing his eyes from staring for hours and yawning, he turns his computer off, and the room is just… eerily quiet. 

He takes a shower in their combination shower-tub, brushes his teeth at the pedestal sink, and thinks that the mirror seems much smaller than the one at Victor's place.

Victor's bathroom mirror covers a strip of wall, and in the mornings when they're both hustling to get ready, Yuuri will be at the sink and watching from the corner of his eye as Victor flits in and out, grabbing hair products and lotions as Yuuri preps himself for the day. Victor makes pit stops behind Yuuri along the way, pressing soft kisses to his cheek or hugging him and commenting on how attractive Yuuri looks even though they both know he's just rolled out of bed a mess.

Yuuri puts on a pair of old sweats and crawls into his narrow bed. It's just as squeaky as he remembers, and the indent in the middle is still caved to the shape of his butt. His phone is already plugged into the cable he keeps on his side table, and he reaches for it, reading a few missed texts from Victor when he turns it on.

Victor went to bed about an hour and a half ago, and missing his goodnight text gives Yuuri a sinking feeling. He quickly writes back that he was playing games and is just getting to bed before sighing and setting his phone back down. It buzzes before Yuuri can shuffle under the sheets, and Yuuri sees that Victor's sent back a couple of hearts. 

After sending some of his own in reply, Yuuri sleeps.

 

* * *

 

He wakes up late the next morning, grunting when the near-noon sunlight hits his eye with sniper accuracy. There's nowhere to hide his face, not a shoulder or another pillow or even dog fur. There is, however, a wall, and he realizes he's in his own bed today. 

It's been a while since he's been home for the weekend, and he hasn't been in his room for a solid week. 

The odd thing is that, rather than being like a vacation where you leave for a week and return home because it's _home_ , his and Phichit's apartment doesn't feel that way anymore. It's still someplace he lives, sure, but it doesn't feel the way it used to when it was just him and Phichit. Somewhere in living with Victor for six days, he'd settled. 

Maybe Phichit was right about his wanting to move in with Victor, but the man isn't around for him to talk it out with— it's Saturday, which means he's off in Brooklyn somewhere collecting information on hot new restaurants for his job. 

Yuuri is well and truly alone for the day for the first time in ages, and it's a quiet that he's kind of forgotten. 

He spends a couple of hours online watching videos and scrolling idly through social media. There are a few posts from Victor at the conference, and he smiles wistfully. Victor's schedule is packed for the day, as his 7:38AM text bemoaned, so Yuuri's messages are quite empty.

Phichit comes home with pizza (normal pepperoni pizza without "exotic" toppings, thankfully,) and they have a pretty good evening catching up with each other and playing with Phichit's hamsters. He manages to catch Victor before bed, chatting a little bit before his boyfriend's messages stop, and Yuuri wonders if he's just fallen asleep with his thumbs on the keyboard. 

He sighs as he sends the nerdy glasses emoji to Victor before plugging his phone in for the night. 

This would have been an ideal Saturday just a few months ago, but now, it just doesn't feel like enough. Like he wants something else, and Yuuri knows what he wants involves Victor, whether he likes it or not. 

He wants their weekend cuddling and dog walking and easy conversations. Yelling at the TV because a contestant on _Minced_ left the gummy bears out of their dish is their Saturday night _thing_ now, and they always laugh over how silly it is that they're sitting there eating takeoutwhile critiquing the culinary experts on screen. It doesn't ever stop them from doing it, but the point of reality television, as Victor once mused, is simply to entertain.

It's way past the broadcast time for the show and Victor's asleep, but Yuuri misses both those things.

Sunday can't come soon enough.

 

* * *

 

Sunday does come, and Yuuri spends most of the day just trying to articulate what he wants to say to Victor.

His apology from Friday was by no means insincere, but it wasrushed. He and Victor haven't _really_ talked about that night, and it wouldn't feel right over the phone anyways. 

Around six, Victor texts him to let him know that he's about to board the train back, and Yuuri gets comfy on the sofa to talk to him while he's on the ride. It feels wonderful to chat at length, but it's nearing the end of Victor's ride and Yuuri's wondering how he's going to see (and talk to) Victor later.

"So," Yuuri types, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. "Are you taking the subway back?"

Victor sends a reply moments later. "That's the plan." 

"Isn't my place closer from Penn?" 

The little dots that dance to indicate that Victor is typing stop for a moment before they jump back up again.

"I think so. Why?"

Yuuri takes a deep breath as he types his next reply.

"Sooner is better than later, right?" Yuuri pauses, before adding, "but I can come over if you want to get Makkachin."

"It's ok. I'll ask Nikolai to keep her for another night." Victor writes. "Sooner it is <3"

Yuuri sends a heart back before embarking on the question of what Victor might want for a very late dinner, and they talk until Victor says his phone is low on battery and he's forced to conserve it. 

About two hours later, there's a knock on his and Phichit's front door, and Yuuri yells to his roommate that he'll get it before stumbling over his own feet to get his hand on the door handle.

And there Victor is, wearing an uncontrollable beautiful grin and Yuuri doesn't think he's been more ecstatic to see someone's smile, ever. They collide into each other, arms wrapping around each other and standing together in the doorway hugging like it's been months since they last hugged.

Somehow, they get through the door and Victor manages to crouch and grab his luggage without letting go of Yuuri. They only part once the front door is closed and Victor has to let go to take his shoes off. 

Yuuri halfheartedly invites Phichit to sit with them anyway, but, like a good roommate would in the presence of his roommate's partner, he declines and disappears into his room with a wink. Victor smiles in relief— he can always trust Phichit to read the social mood and give them a little privacy.

They spend the rest of the evening (night, really— it was already ten when Victor arrived at the apartment) on the too-soft sofa, with their legs tangled together and the TV on low like they'd been missing. 

It's nearly midnight when Victor kisses Yuuri awake (he'd dozed off around twenty minutes ago) and rubs his back warmly, coaxing him up. "Yuuri, let's get to bed. And maybe shower." 

Blinking and yawning, Yuuri nods, reacquainting himself with his limbs and getting off Victor to let him stand. He pauses, frowning for a moment. "Oh, towels…" 

Stumbling off in search of fresh towels for Victor to use in his closet, Victor brings his duffel inside and follows Yuuri through the short corridor to his room. His heart is pounding. This is his boyfriend's _room_ — sure, he'd been to the apartment a week ago, when they came here to collect Yuuri's things, but he still hesitates at the doorway, looking at Yuuri and opening his mouth to ask if he can come inside- and Yuuri laughs as though it's a silly question, letting Victor inside without issue. 

It wouldn't have been so trivial a question just days before, but Yuuri's come to a few realizations since then. 

Victor's first impression of the room is that it's very Yuuri. It's practical, simply decorated and relatively clean. It's not the smallest of rooms, with a built-in closet and enough space for a desk and an extra seat, but it's definitely smaller than Victor's bedroom, which can fit a king sized bed with room to spare. Yuuri's bed is much smaller than that, consisting of a long twin mattress covered in a gray duvet and dark blue sheets. It looks a little small for both of them to fit on, and he notes as much to Yuuri.

"Oh, um… I didn't think that through, did I?" He admits, scratching his head. "I can take the floor."

"No, we'll fit." Victor declares, a big smile spreading across his face. "We'll make it work."

Two showers and some tooth-brushing later, they're staring at the bed, trying to make the narrow mattress work for them.

"Well, do you want to be on the inside or the outside?" Yuuri asks, referring to the side of the bed closest to the wall.

"I don't mind either." Victor shrugs. "Where would you rather I be?"

"Get in bed, then." Yuuri murmurs, nudging him. 

"Ooh, how demanding," Victor jokes, pulling the covers back and sliding in. After turning the lights off, Yuuri crawls in with him, and he finds that the mattress is slanted to Victor's side, making him roll right into him with an "oof." 

"Well, this isn't so bad, is it?" Victor murmurs, grinning so much that Yuuri can feel him smile in the dark. Long fingers run idly through his hair, and Yuuri nestles closer, breathing deeply. "It's intimate."

Victor's hair-stroking is coming to a slow stop when Yuuri remembers that he completely forgot to talk to Victor at all about their conversation on Thursday. It should be alright to bring it up now, right? He glances upward to see if Victor's fallen asleep yet, and Victor's eyes open when he feels Yuuri move.

"Victor," he whispers, "about Thursday—"

"It's okay. I know you need space." Victor mumbles.

"Thanks, but I was going to say… I've been thinking a lot since you left." Yuuri swallows, resting his forehead on Victor's chin. "I know I said I wanted space. But this weekend was _terrible_."

Victor's breath halts for a moment, and he cranes his head down in an attempt to make eye contact in the dark. "It was?"

"Yeah." Nodding imperceptibly, Yuuri admits. "I thought I needed space, but even coming back here didn't feel right. I thought… I thought this was home. But it wasn't." Victor remains silent, instead gliding his hand along Yuuri's upper arm as he speaks. "I guess what I'm trying to say is," Yuuri pauses for a short while, "I don't feel at home without you."

"Oh, Yuuri…"

"But I _hurt_ you." He mutters bluntly, feeling his eyes start to water. "I made you cry. I saw the tissues."

Victor simply sighs, hugging Yuuri by the shoulders and pressing his lips to his hair briefly. "I was upset. I didn't know I was making you uncomfortable— that's the last thing I want to do."

"I know, I know. And it's okay now. " Yuuri reassures, curling one hand against Victor's chest. "I just don't want to make you cry ever again."

"Well, I don't know if I can guarantee that, Yuuri."

"What?"

"It sounds to me," Victor begins slowly, sounding a little gleeful as he brings his hand up to rest gently under Yuuri's jaw, "like you just admitted that you feel at home with me. And I feel the same about you. I just can't guarantee there won't be some _happy_ tears if that's true." 

Yuuri gapes a little bit before clamping his arms around Victor's torso and shuffling up so their heads are level. "It's true," he confirms, brushing a stray lock of hair away from the side of Victor's face and beginning to grin. "Are you going to cry now?"

"No, too tired." Victor lilts into Yuuri's lips, closing his eyes. "Remind me so I can cry in the morning." This time, Victor sinks happily with his nose to Yuuri's shirt, clutching around his midriff and relaxing deeper into the mattress. Yuuri snorts quietly at his response, and ducks his head to Victor's hair, blinking slowly.

"If I'm going to move in with you, I'll need to give Phichit two months' notice." He murmurs, the logistics of moving already beginning to swim in his head. 

But Victor is already asleep, judging by the depth of his breathing. 

Yuuri closes his eyes and sleeps better than he has in days, because they're finally _home,_ and he never wants to leave.

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all are lucky that I hate seeing (or writing) Victor and Yuuri fighting and feel the need to resolve conflicts within the same chapter :')
> 
> I hope this was an okay change from the usual!
> 
> [Please see the new chaptered posting of this AU for updates!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10695813/chapters/23690199)
> 
>  
> 
> **Hit me up on[tumblr](http://ingthing.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/ingthing)!**
> 
>  
> 
> I have [art for this AU](http://ingthing.tumblr.com/tagged/florist-au) on tumblr, as well as reblogs of [other amazing works](http://ingthing.tumblr.com/tagged/not%20mine) based off this AU!
> 
> Thanks for your comments and kudos! I'm a bit too busy to reply to comments at the moment, but I read and appreciate each and every one!
> 
>  


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